Escape
by Jelly Beans Galore
Summary: Motorcity, Disney XD. How Julie came to be with the Burners.


You are three-years-old. Your bangs are slightly too long—they're falling in your face—but you can make out his form just barely.

"Uncle Jacob!" you cry and jump into his arms. He swings you around and you giggle.

"Jules!" he says and fixes his bandana. "It's so good to see you . . . ."

Your father watches for a moment, approving your happiness, before looking back at Jacob and giving a gesture with his head towards the work room. "Julie, go play with your mother. Jacob and I have work to do. If you're good and don't bother us, we may have time to make you a toy. A remote control car, maybe?"

"_No_!" you shout. "No cars! I hate cars! Dollie!"

He agrees and you smile. No cars. You get a doll. You escape from the room.

* * *

You are twelve-years-old. You have just returned from swimming with Claire, so your hair is tied up in a ponytail, wavy from chlorine. You see only your father.

"Where's Uncle Jacob?" you ask. "Weren't you two working today?"

"Jacob doesn't understand the need for change. Julie, I'm going to build a perfect new city. Everyone will love it," your father explains. It catches your attention. You listen. He tells you more, inspiration evident in his voice. You have never seen him so happy. You want to grin too. Instead, you toss the wet bag with your swimsuit on the table and sit down. You ask what is going to make this city so amazing. He's only so happy to inform you. "It will be everything you ever wanted. Everything will look like the sky, clean, pure, and there will be no cars. You hate cars, remember?"

You have to wonder why he reminded you. "Yeah. That sounds nice."

You slip away as quietly as you can, finally escaping, and lay in your bed. Jacob liked cars. Eventually, he'd come around. You knew that. He and your dad are too good of a team.

* * *

You are fourteen-years-old. Your hair is impeccably straight and you look nice, clean, pure. Your father's wonderful city has been created. Jacob never came around.

You enter your dining room and sit down with your father. He is glaring at his eggs and bacon. You pause from your own breakfast and look up at him.

"What's wrong?"

He looks back at you. "The cadet I was training to take over the company . . . . He's a traitor! He went down to Motorcity!" He turns to one of the many servants and/or guards around you. "I want you to put out an arrest for Mike Chilton. If he is found, _kill him_."

Your blood chills. You don't know the boy. In fact, you kind of resented him. He was what showed everybody that your father thought you too weak to keep a whole city. But you've never heard your father want to kill somebody. Kill. Murder. Homicide. Those words don't make sense. Your father wasn't the sweetest or kindest man around, but was he a killer—a murderer—a homicide committer?

"I . . . I'm not hungry," you say and escape. Your father stays. He is. Hungry for power. For the boy-you-didn't-know's blood.

* * *

You are sixteen-years-old. Your hair is the same as it has been ever since your father built Deluxe. You are confused.

You decide to go see what is so horrible about Motorcity. Isn't it the same Detroit you grew up in? Sure, it isn't as nice as Deluxe, but why does everyone want to destroy it?

You look around. Your bright, clean, pure, clothing sticks out around here. People stare at you. You look down. The attention is unnerving. You can tell their judging you, but the looks are different from Deluxe. In Deluxe, everyone wants to be you. In Motorcity, they fear you or hate you. You have never been hated before.

"Julie!"

A gasp escapes your lips and you turn around. "Uncle Jacob? What are you doing down here?"

He doesn't give you time to answer. You find yourself in what looks like an old restaurant, but it's rundown and dirty. You lower yourself onto a seat and regret it. These pants are probably ruined. How can you explain this to your father?

"What's going on?" you hear your voice ask before you can process this. "Why are people starving?"

"I can't explain now," Jacob says. He digs around and hands you a pile of clothes that looks what you're wearing, but colorful. You haven't worn colors like that in years. "Put these on. You'll blend in more."

You hesitate.

He sighs. "Just take the clothes and go back to Deluxe. You can decide later if you want to be here."

You escape.

* * *

You are still sixteen-years-old. Your hair is still straight. You have decided.

You slip the colorful clothes on and climb down to Motorcity. Jacob explains what your father has done. Your eyes are wide in shock. The door suddenly swings open, and you watch a group of four boys enter. One tall and dark-skinned; one tall and pale in all ways; one about your height, but intimidating; and one you cannot describe, but you like him immediately. You trust him, even though you don't know his name or what he's done or really anything about him. You almost frown. Most people feel that way about your father.

"Hey!" Jacob greets them happily. "This is Julie. She's an intern at Kane Co. She's going to be our inside source. Julie, these are the Burners. Dutch, Chuck, Texas, and Mike."

Mike Chilton, your brain cries. Mike seems to see your shock.

"Everyone is Deluxe has heard of me?" he asks good-naturedly.

"M— Mmmm." You turn the possessive word for your father into a hum. "Kane has sent out a warrant for you."

Mike laughs. "Kane will never get me. Hey, guys, let's help Julie build a car." He looks back at you. "We all have cars. It helps us escape the KaneBots."

You smile even though you dislike cars. You could grow to like them, you guess. You don't think you'll be escaping any time soon.


End file.
